


A close encounter

by waywardbaby



Category: SPN
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Smuff, Smut, Unprotected Sex, rpf fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-30 14:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardbaby/pseuds/waywardbaby
Summary: When your life is about to change and flip upside down, just tilt your head a little and everything will look right





	A close encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dean_winchesters_bacon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_winchesters_bacon/gifts).

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Sweet Lord!

Why do famous people have to stay in the same hotel that I'm staying in? Hordes of screaming, women of all ages are lurking outside, making entering and leaving the place almost impossible. Not even the simplest task, such as deliveries or laundry services can’t be performed because the whole building is constantly surrounded by women hoping to get a glimpse of who I can only assume are actors. Actors who see so many faces and hear so many voices, day in and day out, that it is highly unlikely they remember any of them. 

I don't know who those actors are, I haven't seen them,but judging by the havoc, they have to be quite well-known and must be good looking, too. I have stopped watching regular tv, and I carefully select the things I watch on Netflix. My busy and tiring lifestyle allows me very little time and I don't waste it on mindless shows but rather on programs I can benefit and learn something from. I have to admit,though, that all the noise has both annoyed me and peaked my interest. 

So, today, on my way to attend another series of boring staff meetings, I make a stop at the concierge’s desk.  
“Excuse me,” I say in my most serious voice, “Can you please tell me what all this fuss has been about these last couple of days? Women have been stalking this place like it's a Backstreet Boys reunion!”

The young man behind the desk looks at me like I sprouted a second head and answers, his tone laced with contempt. “We are proud to have the two leading actors of the popular show ‘Supernatural’ staying with us. That is what all the fuss has been about.”

That name rang a bell somewhere in my brain. I have heard it before, but for the life of me I can't remember by whom. Checking my watch, I realize I'm running late. I mumble a hurried “thank you” and erasing the conversation I just had from my mind, I push my way out of the door and through the bodies of women who probably have nothing better to do with their time than stand outside my hotel.

The day goes by like the previous three days I've spent here:meetings, lunch, and then more meetings. The last couple of years have all been about work. I busted my ass and managed to grow from the position of a simple assistant to the highly sought after position of branch manager. Sure, it cost me friends, my relationship at the time went to hell, but I wouldn't change a thing even if I could turn back time. Mainly because through all those I changes I evolved and became a stronger and more independent woman who could count only on herself and didn't need to rely on anyone else. 

So here I am, slumped in the back of a cab, dreaming of the hot bath that I'm going to have soon, and the huge glass of wine that is going to help me sleep better. 

Then what the concierge had said this morning hit me. 

My best and only friend had mentioned Supernatural to me before. Although mentioned may be the understatement of the year. Ever since she binge watched the show three years ago, and lost every sense of pride a grown ass woman of our age should have, she’s been pestering me to watch it.. 

She’s always gushing over how fucking perfect those men are.  
What great actors they are!!  
I'd get down on my hands and knees and do whatever those men ask me to do. 

Searching through my handbag, I dig out my cell phone and text her, telling her of the situation. As soon as I pressed send, she responds with a series of emojis ranging from screaming, drooling faces to about a dozen eggplants, followed by a string of “wtf”s, and then some more emojis. 

She has always been a very articulate person, able to give even the most detailed description so the fact that she couldn’t form coherent thought and resolved in the use of emojis makes me chuckle. But it also intrigues me, and I decide to google the actors, see what all the emojis were about, and most of all how the eggplants fit in. As I am about to do so, I’m interrupted by the taxi driver who informs me that we have arrived to my hotel. 

I gather the stack of files from the seat next to me, drop my phone back in my handbag, pay him, and get out of the cab. Pushing through the crowd, which I have to admit is a little lighter, I enter the hotel all the while trying to stuff my wallet back in my bag. 

“God damn it…” I curse and right then I run into someone, dropping my files. I lean down to pick them up and manage to break my bag’s strap dropping that on the floor as well . Almost all of its contents spill out with a cluttering sound, decorating the marble floor of the lobby. 

“I'm so sorry,” I mumble as I kneel on the floor, trying to pick up everything that is lying there. Flashbacks of similar situations having taken place in high school corridors whiplash in my head, bringing about a kind of embarrassment I hadn’t felt in years. 

“It's totally ok, miss,” a deep voice says. I feel warm all of a sudden. As if I’m covered in a soft blanket or as if I’m savoring the drops of my favorite whiskey when I take the first sip after a long day. I raise my head and see the greenest pair of eyes looking at me. The bright lights dance in them, creating darker and lighter shades of green. Crinkles on their sides have me staring a little more than what’s appropriate, and to make matters worse, I'm now looking at freckle-dusted cheeks and plump, smiling lips. 

His fingers brush against mine as he helps me gather my stuff, and I feel like I've been hit by lightning. My skin tingles like I touched those strange science balls I had once touched at a museum on a school trip. The ones that make your hairs stand up and look like Einstein’s. Trying to reacquire the skill of speech and failing, I take the things he's holding, shove them in my still open bag, managing an awkward smile and almost run to the elevator. The last thing I see before the door of the elevator close and I glue myself against its mirror, is his beautiful smirk as his eyes were following me. 

The trip to the tenth floor seems endless. I know that the elevator is moving but it feels like it’s moving in slow motion. Its ping on every floor reaches my ears as an ugly, distorted sound and all I want is for it not to stop at any floor in between. I look at myself in the mirror and the image staring back at me looks insane to say the least. My pupils are dilated, my cheeks are flushed, and my chest is rising and falling abnormally fast. The more I look at myself, the more I resemble the women gathered outside my hotel. The same women I felt so much contempt for not two minutes ago.  
Jesus, Y/N! Pull yourself together!! What are you, 14?

I get in my room and lean against the door the minute it shuts behind me, slowly sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor. I take deep breaths, one after the other, and I say to myself that I have to calm down, mentally slapping myself for acting like a schoolgirl who has just seen her crush. 

I mean, yeah, ok. This man is so freaking good looking, and yeah, it may have been a while since I've been with a guy in a romantic way. 

But come on!! 

I try to rationalize all this surge of forgotten excitement that have been kept dormant for many years but the same two questions keep popping into my head:What was that? How can someone look like that and be legal?

Taking another deep breath, I push the images of green eyes and freckles out of my head. I pull myself up and head towards the mini fridge, feeling more than ready to indulge myself in the red, cool liquid. I take the bottle out but to my disappointment, I see that the bottle there is almost empty.  
Did I really put an almost empty bottle back in the fridge? Wow, Y/N!!!

“Damn, I drink a lot,” I say to myself, reaching for the phone to order a new bottle, dismissing the idea that I may, slowly but steadily, be turning into an alcoholic. After I have placed my order, I double back to the fridge and as I see no reason in pouring almost half a glass of wine down the drain, I take the bottle out. In a completely unladylike manner I raise it to my lips and gulp down some. 

Next step, prepare the bubble bath. Making my way to the bathroom, I discard my clothes, letting them, unceremoniously, drop on the floor. 

By the time I get there I am only in my bra and thong. As I’m turning on the water, I hear a light knock on my hotel room door. 

“Thank God, my wine is here!” I slip into my robe, turn off the tap, and head to the door.  
“Coming!” I shout as I make a small stop in order to grab some cash from my wallet to tip the person who in my mind has the role of the dealer of happiness right now. I’m still struggling to tie the sash of my robe but I go ahead and open the door nonetheless. As I'm about to thank the “dealer”, I freeze. 

Leaning with one shoulder against the doorframe, blocking most of it and smiling at me, is the man from the lobby. His eyes roam all over my body and his lips are now pursing into a sinful smirk. He’s looking at me as if he knows what I look like naked and that makes me realize that my robe isn’t properly done, exposing more than appropriate. Although my fingers don’t fully cooperate I manage to tie the sash, still holding the money. It seems that time has stood still as I'm lost again.  
Lost in his eyes.  
I feel like I’m floating on air. Air filled with an arousing combination of pinewood and a hint of whiskey. He’s not even standing that close but his scent has invaded my senses, carrying me away.  
“Hello again, miss,” he says, and I just now fully comprehend that I must have been staring at him for the last few seconds. “It’s awfully kind of you but I can’t take your money.”  
Why is he talking about?  
I open my mouth to try to respond, but no sound comes out. I'm sure he's aware of the desperate situation I'm in, because his lopsided smirk turns into a full smile and he nods towards my hand, still holding the money. I follow his gaze and I realize what he means along with the fact that my robe, although tied, isn’t tied well enough revealing almost my whole left, luckily still bra-cladded, breast. I cover myself as quickly and as well as I can. 

“I think this belongs to you.”he continues and raises his hand. 

My phone! I didn’t even realize that I didn't have it. I'm about to mutter some kind of thank you, dreading the possibility of a high-pitched screech coming out instead, and I'm saved by a small cough coming from behind the sin at my door. 

It's the waiter with the bottle of wine I had ordered. 

“I'll take that,” he says and grabs the bottle along with the cooler from the tray, tipping him generously. “Thank you so much.”

The waiter looks at him and then at me and nods, turning around, and leaves. 

“May I come in?” He asks, his gaze lowering a bit, and he's now looking at me under perfect, long eyelashes. 

“Uuuuhhmm, yeah. Sure. I'm so sorry,” I stutter and move to the side so he can walk in the room. I close the door and carefully lean against it in search of support, while watching him move further in. 

His legs are a little bowed, but they look strong. The gray trousers he’s wearing hang low on his narrow waist accentuating even more the contrast between that and his wide shoulders. His muscular arms seem to be straining under his tight, white shirt. I feel my throat being patched all of a sudden and I raise my hand to my throat like this is going to help me swallow. 

What is this man doing here? Why would a completely unknown man go to all that trouble bringing someone a lost phone when he could have easily handed it over to the concierge to take care of it?  
I have to admit that these last few years I have lost a part of my faith to humanity and tend to doubt and question things that seem to be done without an obvious ulterior motive. It had worked to my advantage up until now.  
He sits down on the small couch and places the cooler with the wine and my cell phone on the coffee table. Crossing his leg, ankle to knee, he swivels his body, placing his arm on the back of the couch. He seems so at ease even though he's in my room, my space. 

The playful smirk from before adorns his lips again. “I found your cell on the floor. If you are anything like me, I know that you must want it bad.”

The way his tongue rolls over the word bad sends shivers down my spine, and my feet finally decide to leave the spot by the door and move closer to where he is. Looking at the wine, I change direction. Taking two glasses, I sit on the other side of the couch. I could sit closer, but I choose the safety provided by the space between us, instead. 

“Well, since you aren't offering, I'll just help myself,” he says, and takes the bottle out of the cooler, pouring two glasses. “I'm Jensen, by the way,” he adds and hands me one of the glasses. “And you probably have noticed that me and my friend Jared are the reason for the commotion outside the hotel.”

As I reach for it, my fingers touch his and that electric shock hits me again. Like a dying person receiving CPR, my friend’s ranting and his explanation for together and I finally realize what’s going on.  
That’s the cast of the show!  
And wow, I once again understand my friend’s infatuation. 

This is why she has been begging me to see the show!

This is why she has lost all sense of pride and dignity!

This is why she would get on her hands and knees!

He's the reason all those women have been piling up outside. He's the reason for the insistent screeching sounds I heard from the street. And right now, I can't blame them one little bit. 

Although the pieces of the puzzle have almost fit together, processing and finding the right words is still difficult. I'm a successful woman who manages to survive in an environment full of men every day, and right now I feel like an idiot, to say the least. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”he asks and there’s a tint of concern in his voice. There’s a good possibility he thinks I’m either deaf or I don’t speak English. “Are you gonna tell me your name?”

“Uuuhhmmm, I'm sorry. Yes. My name is Y/N and I'm sorry for not thanking you yet for taking the time to bring me my cell. It was awfully kind of you going to all that trouble when you could just have given it to someone from the hotel.” 

I high five myself in my head for finally uttering coherent thoughts. 

His beautiful eyes smile along with his lips, and he slowly raises his glass. I follow his move and when the rim touches his mouth, and the tip of his tongue licks there, I feel so fucking jealous of that glass. He takes a long sip,his eyes never leaving mine, and my throat suddenly feels parched. 

“Yeah, I could have, I guess. But when I saw you kneeling on that marble floor, all flustered and cute… and when you looked up at me with your beautiful eyes… I knew that I had to see you again. So, cell phone in hand, I went up to the concierge, all the while keeping my fingers and toes crossed that he’d be able to help me. Luckily, he lived up to the rumor that hotel concierges know everything and he was very helpful in pointing me to your room.”he explained, his voice deep and sensual. 

I feel myself being physically drawn to him, and my body moves closer, my shoulder mere inches away from his fingertips that still linger on the back of the couch. 

“Th- thank you again,” I whisper. “But you didn’t need to have gone into all that trouble.”

He shifts just a little more and bam! His fingers brush against my shoulder. Maybe it was by accident, I think, but then he does it again. He traces a small circle, right where the short sleeve of my robe ends, lifting it with his fingertips while he's still looking at me. My robe is perfectly done, exposing nothing to his gaze and yet I feel like I’m naked. His eyes are slowly moving over my mouth, down my neck right where my pulse point is frantically beating and then back up. 

“As I said, no trouble but,” he starts and reaching out, takes a strand of hair that is out of place and secures it behind my ear “I had to put that insolent strand back in its place”

His fingertips trace the shell of my ear and move toward my cheek cupping it as his thumb grazes my skin. I visibly shiver, and I'm sure he notices, but right now I don't care. All my senses are in hyperdrive, so when he takes my glass and puts it on the table along with his, I let him. 

I let him move closer to me, covering the space that separates us. 

I let him bury his hand in my hair and lightly brush his lips against mine. It’s a second-long connection that is enough to bring out a moan from deep in my throat. His lips are so soft, so warm against mine and I can feel him smiling against them. 

And he kisses me again, this time first my upper lip and then my lower one. 

And again. 

My body moves closer to his, yearning to experience this. Demanding the physical contact that it has been deprived of for years. The robe opens up a little, exposing my thigh and his hand settles on it, rubbing it tenderly, slowly moving upwards. 

And then he stops, pulling back a few inches and resting his forehead against mine. “Tell me you want this, because right now, I know that there is nothing I want more than this. But if you're not sure, if there is a possibility that this is too much, just tell me and it ends here.”he whispers, his voice almost trembling, his need displayed on the quick rising and falling of his chest. 

He stays there, like that, waiting for my answer. I take a deep breath and look at his lips, half parted and slightly swollen by the kiss we just shared. His tongue peaks out of his mouth, wetting his and drying mine as I follow its path. His are eyes shining, gold flecks dancing in them as they catch the soft light of the room. I’m almost lost in the million angel kisses that adorn his cheeks and I know that I want to kiss each and every one of them. 

I place my hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back against the couch. Turning my body, I straddle his hips, bending my head down low, I kiss him more demandingly and deeper than he had, making sure I leave no room for misunderstandings. My teeth bite on his lips, my fingers tangle in his short hair, and I think he gets what I mean, because his hands move to my waist, sliding down until they reach my ass. He cups both cheeks and squeezes them hard, his fingers digging into my flesh. 

His gesture pushes me a little further up in his lap, and I find myself shamelessly grinding against his crotch. His deep moan, emanating from the back of his throat, only spurs me to take the next step. I break the kiss, only to see him chasing it. Looking in his eyes, now dark with desire, I reach for my robe’s sash and undo the knot. I let it slide off my shoulders, revealing to his lustful gaze the black, lacy bra and matching thong, underneath. 

His pupils widen, turning the green of his irises to an almost black color. He raises his arms from where they have been resting, his fingertips slowly grazing up mine, and stopping right next to my breasts. Cupping them, his thumbs trace small circles over my nipples, making them harder than they already are, begging to be released from the confines of the flimsy material. 

My head falls back as his mouth seals around my hardened peak, over the lace, moistening it along with another part of me that is almost dripping and probably staining his trousers. He bites and licks, and I don't know if I want him to stop, because I can't handle the sensations or beg him to keep going. 

Providing the answer to my unspoken dilemma, I feel his fingers traveling toward my thong which he twists and rips with no effort at all. His fingers slide inside me so easily, only confirming my previous thought. He uses two of them, keeping them there for a few seconds, without moving them, maybe waiting for my agreement. They are thick, filling me up perfectly and even though there isn’t even the tiniest motion, my back arches just by the sheer feeling of them being inside me. My legs part, giving him better access and the answer to his question. 

“Yes.” A breathy, heaving whisper escapes my lips as he starts a slow, steady pump in and out of me. Just when I think that something like this can't get any better, his thumb pushes down on my clit and starts drawing small, tortuous circles. 

My fists grab his shirt and tug. Sensations are going into overdrive and I ride his fingers wildly, chasing a release that I haven’t felt for so long. My mouth greedily seals over his kissing, biting, licking in an effort to drown the screams that are slowly forming. His free arm circles around my waist keeping me pinned on him, leaving no centimeter between us empty and keeping me from falling off of him at the same time. I can feel my body climbing higher and higher, and I know that this isn't going to last long. He reads me so well, going faster and harder, faster and harder till I'm almost there. 

“Are you ready, baby girl?” It’s a simple question, but I can't even utter the word yes. I only frantically nod my head, and he crooks his fingers inside me, hitting my sweet spot. I cum so hard, a string of incoherent curses escaping my lips. Wave after wave of hot lava burn my body and I grip his shoulders tight. There’s a very strong possibility that there are going to be scratches there as my nails are digging into his flesh as I’m riding out the best orgasm of my life. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite on my lip to keep from being heard all over the hotel floor. He doesn't stop until I fall on him like a rag doll, spent and sated. Only then does he slip his fingers out of me and circle his arms around my waist, keeping me flush against him. 

We just sit like that, me still straddling him, my head resting on his shoulder, trying to regain consciousness, and the ability to speak. How I have missed this closeness. Being with someone that can read me so well. That can make my body reach such heights of pure ecstasy. After breaking up with my fiancé, I had buried all feelings, all yearnings that my body had been asking for. I had decided that my work was my priority and had erased all its protests, all its demands.  
And now, I’m straddling a ridiculously hot man who I just met after I have let him fingerfuck me on my hotel room’s couch, only thinking that I want more. I want to experience all these toe curling sensations again. 

“That was one of the most intense things I've ever experienced to be honest,” he whispers in my ear, and I wanna just laugh at the understatement of the thing. I mean, I think I may have blacked out there for a second or two. But, still unable to form coherent speech, I nod again and the next thing I feel is his arms under my ass as he gets up from the couch. My legs lock around his waist, and I let him carry me.  
Where? I don’t know and I don’t really care as I’m sure I’d let this man carry me to the deepest parts of hell and still be grateful. 

He gently lays me down on my back in the middle of the queen size mattress and lies next to me, his head supported by his hand. Suddenly, I realize that I'm naked apart from the bra that doesn't really hide anything from his roaming eyes. So, I reach for the sheet to cover myself up. 

“Don't,” he says a little too quickly and my hand freezes. “I wanna look at you. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.” His fingers graze over my kiss-swollen lips and I lightly kiss them, earning a hot, lopsided smile. Barely touching my skin he moves them down my throat, between my breasts and then lower over my navel where it stops to rest. His thumb is making a repeating small motion, left to right, caressing a small part of my skin which visibly goosebumps and all I can think of is that I want this man so bad it hurts. Looking deep in my eyes he continues, a small hint of sadness in his voice. “I hate thinking that this will end. I mean, you probably have a whole other life somewhere else and someone there waiting for you, and I have to get back on the road. So, I want these moments to stay in my head. Your face, the scent of your body, the sweet sounds you make... I want every small detail. Let me look at you.”

“There's no one else,” I manage to utter and I turn my body toward him, mirroring his and I see him relax and breathe a relieved sigh. 

As if he were waiting for this, his free hand travels to my face once again, his long fingers gently push some strands of hair that he had overlooked before out of the way so he can trace my cheek. He retrails the same path he has taken before barely making contact with my skin. It feels more like the touch of a butterfly, as his fingertips move slowly, now on my lips. His thumb brushes over my upper lip and my mouth parts in a desperate effort to take in oxygen. My eyes close, and all my senses are focused on relishing his touch. He moves lower, following the trail provided by the frantically, beating vein that goes down my neck, sending one chill after the other through my entire body. 

He grazes my shoulder, his index finger going under the strap of my bra, lowering it.. When it is almost at my elbow, I raise my arm and free it from the strap. The lace is now barely covering my nipple. His thumb begins rubbing it in slow, gentle moves until with a small yank it is free from its confines. 

In all the years I've been sexually active, this moment has to be the most erotic experience of my life. It's so slow, so sensual. It's burning me, and at the same time it's making the hairs at the back of my neck stand at attention. Every cell in my body seems to be on fire and that fire is currently traveling and pooling in one specific place. I squeeze my thighs together, and I try not to look so needy, so turned on. But that movement does not go undetected, and he smiles once again. 

Bending his head, he kisses me, licking at my lips that are opening immediately, but he doesn't stay there. He moves to my ear instead and whispers. “I want to make you come again. I want to make you come as many times as possible, but one of these times, I want you to come when I'm buried deep inside you so you can feel me.” 

Holy fuck! It would be useless to say that I could have come just by him whispering such things in my ear, because I immediately fall back on my pillow unable to support my head on my arm anymore. I feel him getting off the bed. He is taking off his shirt, and the image I had in my head all the while he was dressed is now confirmed. 

His body is firm and toned just the right amount. His skin is perfect and the same freckles that adorn his cheeks also cover his chest and shoulders. I watch, mesmerized, as his fingers undo the button and zipper. They fall, revealing those strong, but not too thick, bow legs. He must have already removed his shoes because he only bends for a second to take off his socks. A pair of black boxers is the last item of clothing on him, and as his fingers move to the waistband my breath catches in my throat. It's like I'm watching the best show ever and waiting for the final act. 

He smiles, probably sensing everything that is going on in the whirlwind and haze that I once called my brain and lowers his underwear. He's perfect. He's big and thick, and I can literally feel my eyes widening before I try to compose myself. 

He kneels back on the bed and grabs the other half of my bra which I had completely forgotten I still had on. He takes it, and throws it behind him. 

“Lie back, baby girl. I've got you now,” he purrs, his lips finding mine again. He covers my body with his as he gently pushes my legs open, and finds his place between them. His kiss is slow and sensual, his tongue licking against mine. My arms lock behind his neck and my fingers tangle in his short hair as I hold him there. He sucks gently on my tongue and leaves small bites on my lips. I can feel them swell under his sweet torture, and the only thing I manage to breathe is more.

He smiles into the kiss and moves his mouth to that spot where my neck meets my shoulder, that spot that drives me insane. His mouth latches on and alternates between sucking and biting. That sure is gonna leave a mark, but right now I don't care. It's like my body is screaming out to him to go harder, to mark me even more, and once again, he reads me so well. His teeth bite into me and his lips suck until that specific point before it transitions from pleasure to pain. That's when he stops and moves lower, determined not to leave an inch of my body untouched, unkissed. 

He leaves small kisses on my skin till he reaches my breasts. His left palm closes around one as his mouth seals on the other. He rolls my nipple between his thumb and his finger while his tongue is flicking on the other, drawing circles around it. My back slowly arches off the bed, and he goes even faster before a small bite makes me scream a string of words, that I'm not sure are even English, in a voice I don't recognize as my own. 

Then he moves even lowe, licking along my stomach and then lower until he's resting between my legs. “Bend your knees, Sweetheart, and spread your legs a little wider for me,” he whispers, and as if my legs have a mind of their own, they bend and spread. “Good girl. Now, let's give you some proper attention,” he hums, and before I'm able to respond, I feel his hot breath over my pussy, followed by the wetness of his tongue. Keeping my leg open with his one hand, he traces a line from top to bottom, spreading my lips. 

Again, and again, and again until I’m shaking. 

He places his arm around my thigh and over my stomach, keeping me down and still. His other hand finds my clit, which is so swollen that it is hard to miss, and he presses down, rubbing all the while his tongue is buried deep inside me. 

This time, as my fingers pull at his short hair, I'm sure that what escapes my lips is: “Holy fuck, I'm gonna come if you keep this up!”  
“Good, baby girl, because that's what I want you to do. I want you to come. Hell, I need you to!” 

With one more circle over my clit, one more long lick inside me, I thrust on the bed that I register nothing anymore. Nothing apart from the sweet release his mouth and fingers have given me. I try to utter his name, to give him praise for the pleasure, but I can't. My body is using everything it has to absorb the sensations. He doesn't stop, he keeps rubbing my sweet spot, drawing out my orgasm until a strangled please, stop is heard, and he does. He kisses my inner thigh and slowly crawls up my body, leaving small bites again, until he's hovering over my face, his weight supported on his elbows. 

“You have to be the most sensual, erotic woman I have ever met. You are so responsive that making you come is something I want to do again and again. ” he says. His eyes are sparkling looking down at me, his lips curled upwards at the corners into that sinful smirk, his tongue peaking out just a little. 

Truth of the matter is that none of my previous sexual partners had ever made me feel that way. Some because they didn't know how, and some because they didn't care. The fact that I didn't have anything in my life for a long time added up to a sexual frustration that definitely needed to be released. 

I must have blushed because he chuckled and whispered, “You are fucking adorable. Not to mention,” he added winking and licking his lips “Delicious.” 

In an effort to shut him up, I grab his face, and plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. I can taste myself on them, and it's so hot. “See? I'm right,” he says, a smug smirk appearing on his beautiful face. I giggle, and he kisses me again, drowning the sound and producing a different one, a deep, needy moan shamelessly escapes my lips. He pushes his body a little further up, and I feel his cock, hot and hard, pressing at my inner thigh. Reaching down, between our bodies I guide him to my entrance. He lifts his head just a few inches and looks deep in my eyes. I see warmth in them. I feel it washing over me and the only way I could describe it is as the intimate moment two lovers share before their bodies become one. That moment before they merge into one.  
One soul.  
One heart.  
One breath.  
It doesn’t feel as two people who have just met fucking each other’s brains on a sweat covered bed in a hotel room. 

“Make love to me,” I say, and I feel him slowly spreading me, sliding inside me inch by inch. He pushes and pushes until he's completely buried in me, until there's no space between us. He closes his eyes and stays like that for a few seconds, letting me adjust, letting himself adjust, and then he starts to move. He maintains the same rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing back in until we're totally connected. He fills me so perfectly, hitting me deep inside, and I feel that hot pool forming in the pit of my stomach again. A few more of these thrusts, and I'd fall over that edge again. 

“Darling,” he hums, breaking the beautiful silence. “I need you to raise your legs and lock them around my waist. Can you do that?” 

I immediately comply as he draws back. The minute my legs are where he asked, he pushes back in, and I moan as he's now even deeper inside me, hitting me at a spot that no man had ever managed to find. “You are so beautiful…” He's moves almost completely out. “.... so hot…” And back in. “I want to watch you come undone under me, baby girl. You want this?” 

“Yes! Yes!! Please, don't stop, I… I'm gonna…” But I couldn't finish what I was trying to say as his next thrust pushes us both over the edge. I grab his shoulders, digging my nails in his flesh, pulling him on me, and he buries his head in my neck. I feel him throbbing inside me as he's following me in the sweet release we have both been chasing. I don't really know how long this has taken. He wraps his arms around me and turns to the side, taking me with him while we're still connected. 

“Wow, his was,” he starts. 

“Intense!” I finish for him.

“Is it too bad that I wanna do it again?” He chuckles and kisses my shoulder. 

“Uuuhhhmmm, it’s technically not AGAIN as you're still inside me!” I say, burying my face in his chest.  
Am I ever gonna walk straight again if we do, tho?

“Yeah, I know.” I feel a small twitch. Looking up from his chest I see his eyebrows wiggling and his lips smiling.  
Staying in this hotel wasn’t a bad idea after all. 

🍂


End file.
